


dark wings

by lionsenpai



Series: Mafia AU [2]
Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard
Genre: Ace!One, F/F, mafia!au, overt greek mythology references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsenpai/pseuds/lionsenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One suffers from a classic case of misdirection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dark wings

**Author's Note:**

> The is the gayest thing I've written to date. Enjoy.

The band played smooth jazz, their instruments gilded in ebony and gold, dark cedar twisting with whorls of the stuff as the musicians, aged with wrinkles and salt and pepper hair, swayed gently with the music. A pianist who looked at his instrument like it fit to be displayed in a museum—and truly his piano was, dark and glossy and worth a fortune—nodded to the cello player and the woman on the saxophone, and together they set the room adrift, notes of song weaving among the crowd and lightening the atmosphere until it felt possible to float away.

“Much better than last year,” Five commented, leaning in, her breath warm against One’s ear. “I almost hope there’s a fire. Without Four to overturn a table or three, this party may go on for  _hours_.”

One surveyed the room, pointedly avoiding the gaze of two businessmen who thought too highly of their ventures and themselves, and contented herself with knowing most of the faces; if only there had been more she were more eager to see. With a crowd like this, she and Five would be stuck hearing proposals from people who had barely gotten their feet wet for the majority of the night.

“I hope you didn’t mention that when you saw her,” One murmured, watching a server slide by with a meaningful look at the two of them. They no doubt remembered her from last year, though her face might have carried less weight this year around. Four had never been good at social events. “You know how much that shamed her.”

Five laughed, linking arms with One and pressing close, and together, the two of them descended into the lounge, sticking to the edges and simply observing for now. “I worry less for her pride than I do yours, One. I know what a prickly beast it can be.”

One cast a long look at one of the many tables, their covers embroidered with birds in flight, wings a shimmering silver against the pearl white cloth. She had no doubt they were worth every vintage placed upon them, and Gabriella had, if nothing else, excellent taste in vintages. Champagne glasses stacked like a tower, bubbling at the rim with what could have been liquid gold.

“A drink already?” Five mused aloud, following her gaze. “Am I imagining things, or are you dreading you very oldest partner’s party?”

One glanced at Five briefly, taking a moment to admire her. She was immaculate, beautiful as One had ever seen her. Her hair had been brushed and curled and tied into a bun, the excess falling between her shoulder blades like spun gold, and the dress she’d chosen for tonight was wine dark, fit for a queen. It clung to her form like ink until it reached her hips, opening enough to sway at her ankles with every step, the slit allowing just the flash of bare skin. Though the collar barely touched her bust, the back opened to revel milky skin, fabric pooling at the curve just above her hip.

She wasn’t dressed to impress; she was dressed to  _stun_.

Five must have noticed her staring because she gave a pretty bat of her lashes, red lips curving into a perfect smile.

“Many things have changed in a year,” One said, sighing. Five’s heels made her even taller than usual, but she was close enough that it did not matter. They were given a wide berth, the sparrows allowing them to circle for now, and though One knew there were ears everywhere, Five had a gift for reading her mind; a face was often more telling than words, and Five knew how to read the subtle shifts and piece together the meaning behind them. It was why One needed her here tonight.

“You worry terribly, One,” Five chided. “They won’t fear you less for an associate gone astray.”

“ _Family_ ,” One corrected, her mouth twisting into a frown. “And she is not just wayward, as you know.”

“I  _know_ she is wasting her time. There are more pressing matters than a woman who drinks beer from a can and has only cold steel to comfort her at night. She’s a passing fancy for this town, a new roost sparse enough to remind the people how much they liked what they had. Allow her the chance to realize it too.”

“Your faith in her is surprising.”

Five smiled, her amber eyes flickering up when the band came to a slow halt. Gabriella stood by the stage, her black hair streaked with silver, dark skin glowing warm with alcohol. “Faith in Zero? Dear One, my faith is, as always, yours alone.”

One missed the opening of Gabriella’s welcome as Five lifted One’s gloved hand to her mouth, kissing the dark leather lightly, never blinking or looking away. One swallowed, a tangle of warmth blooming in chest as color rose to her cheeks, suddenly dizzy with affection.

“—too many of you to remember. You aren’t friends of mine, but you hope to be, and that’s either desperation or good sense.” Gabriella raised her glass, sharp features cut into a slanted frown. “So let the new year be full of good friends, and the rest of you get the fuck out of my city.”

Three dozen glasses lifted in toast while the rest of those gathered gave the expected applause, uncertain laughter rippling through them. One pulled her hand away from Five, business demanding where pleasure beckoned, and joined the steady chorus as the band swung into motion again, offering a faster tune then before for mingling. If not for the steadying heat of Five beside her, she may have looked to the glasses of champagne once more, but now she stood untempted, eyes following Gabriella as she circled the lounge, plucking another glass from a passing server to replace the one she’d drained.

It was hard to imagine how she made it through these events without soiling her fine linen—or someone’s shirt—with all that champagne rushing back up again. And this was  _her party_.

“One,” Gabriella greeted, dress the same color as her drink. It hung from one shoulder and ran to her ankles, dark gemstones set in silver at her neck and wrists. Stylish as ever, even if she would complain of its weight all night. “That same white suit, pah. Do you ever change? I see you and it’s always the same no matter how many years pass.” She leaned forward and kissed One quickly on the cheek, hand on her shoulder, and then looked to Five, scrutinizing. “And who’s this? Another one of your  _sisters_?”

“Alpha Chi Omega is very proud of all of us, I’m sure.” Five flashed their old sorority sign and grinned.

“Give me a break. The only decent one of your lot is One. How she puts up with the rest of you is beyond me,” Gabriella snapped, fixing her gaze on One again. “Where’s the other one? The brat who ran off? Or have you finally taken my good advice and sunk a bullet in her head? Never mind, I know the answer already, and let’s not waste time: that mercy is going to bite you in the ass one day, girl.”

Five glanced at One, shifting just slightly against her, but One banished her worries with a smile. “I am often reminded,” she said, shooting Five a look.

Gabriella passed another appraising look over Five, who only glowed beneath her gaze, and pointed a long finger heavy with silver at her, saying, “You had better not throw a fit like the one last year.”

Five let out a clip of laughter. “She would enjoy that far too much, I think.”

“Freaks,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “One, mingle some. Talk to these fuckers. They aren’t worth your worst pair of Allen Edmonds, but they’ll serve. I’ve got to set some matters straight, but we need to talk tonight—urgently. Don’t make me come find you.”

And with that Gabriella turned, leaving them without so much as a _ta-ta_ , yet her words were the highest praise when she offered others only sneers, only lingering long enough in the lounge to snatch another glass from one of the many tables.

“Charming,” Five said.

“She grows on you.”

“As you have on her, I imagine.”

One squeezed the arm linked with hers against her side, but schooled her smile into a line of neutrality. Gabriella had been very clear: make friends. Something big was in the design then.

Searching the crowd for someone who looked just interested enough not to be reaching, One honed in on an Asian man on the outskirts of the circle, nursing a glass of champagne and casting sideways glances her way in between conversation with a slim young man. Before she could draw Five’s attention to him, a short, stocky boy approached them, swinging his arms like chains at his side. He smiled, flashing white teeth, and touched his hair.

“You escaped just in time,” he said. “I was wondering if I’d have to come save you from our host.”

Five and One exchanged looks, smiles touching their lips, and together, arm in arm, the joked and laughed until the boy ground his teeth so loudly people began to stare. He was in college, on the football team, and blushed redder than One’s tie when Five asked him if he’d always had such great skill handling balls. Eventually, the boy beat a hasty retreat, running back to whoever had the poor judgment to bring him along tonight, and the two of them moved on, taking turns scanning the crowd and picking out which of the assembled would hinder them least should they decide to bring them into the fold.

Five had been right to tell her not to worry. No matter how Zero strayed, the looks cast her way were never less than envious, respect and wariness mixed in equal parts like a fine cocktail. One sampled the champagne while Five talked money with the man she’d spotted before, and it turned out he owned a very lucrative shipping business in the inner city.

They sorted the sparrows from the crows one by one, moving among the tables to the sound of slick jazz, the gentle beat of drums and the lull of a piano. One smiled when beneficial, looked unamused when it was not, and cut a woman off midsentence when she mentioned changing the formula for Song, turning it into a hard drug. It involved cooking the powder, but she had gotten no farther in her explanation before One had let her know that she would be exiled from every social circle in Cathedral City if she spoke a word of the change to anyone—and the implicit threat of worse was there as well, tacked on masterfully when Five, as they turned to leave, smiled and let the woman know they’d be keeping an ear out for her in the months to come.

A man with a beard the color of sand wanted to know about Two’s charity works and whether One would be willing to use them at channels for distributors, but her answer was the same as it had always been: the charity works belonged to Two and Two alone. A portly woman with red hair inquired into the health of Three, saying she’d been very thankful for the work—and discretion—she had shown in the past, and though Five had asked to see the scars, One had assured the her that she would pass along her thanks and then pulled her away. No one mentioned Four or the incident from last year, but even without Five saying anything, One noticed that people were taking care to hold their drinks far away from her, their smiles tight lipped.

By the time the band had taken its third break for the evening, One counted seven new additions to her collection of associates, listing them off in her head as she touched her second glass of champagne to Five’s. The sound they made was nearly lyrical, and Five hummed and tipped her head back, kissing the rim of the glass and leaving red lipstick in the shape of her mouth. She sighed at the taste of the drink and drained half the glass in two long gulps.

“Celebrating already, Five?” One asked, squinting at the crowd and deciding that she had made more than enough friends for one night.

“It’s not celebrating yet. As wonderful as I look in this dress, you’ve yet to see me out of it.” She winked, cheeks rosy from the taste of champagne.

“Another time, perhaps. Gabriella will want to see us soon.”

“I’ve heard all work and no play can make you shrivel up like a prune. I must insist, One, try to enjoy the before it’s passed.” Five leaned heavily against her, the scent of her perfume thick and heady even after hours spent mingling. Her make-up was untouched, as perfect as when they had arrived, and the only sign that they’d truly been there at all existed in the sag of her shoulders, a touch of exhaustion in her otherwise flawless composure.

“Is this concern or self-interest speaking?”

“It’s in my best interest to be concerned.” Five twirled her drink within the glass absently. “She’ll likely want to talk to you about Zero again, and your mood will sour—yes, like that.”

One worked the frown from her lips if only so she could deny Five’s assertion, but there was no missing the gleam in her eyes. Taking another sip of champagne, One conceded perhaps there was merit to what she said—not that she would mention that to Five herself.

“Would you like to do the honors? Gabriella might appreciate saving her breath.” One looked to the band, watching as they rejoined once more to play their final set for the night.

“There are many things I’m sure Gabriella appreciates—” Her gaze roamed up and down One’s frame, but One exhaled sharply, a single huff of laughter at the mere suggestion. “—But my advice would not be among them. Killing Zero would be far too hasty. Let her burn herself out and return, and when she does, welcome her with open arms. That would be my advice, One, should you want to hear it.”

“I always care for you advice, Five,” One said, though she couldn’t help the long pause as she struggled to find a way to respond. “I’m… surprised you think so.”

“I’m sure it’s been on your mind as well. You are ever the optimist, especially when it comes to family.”

“Are you telling me what you think I want to hear, then?”

Five smiled, setting her glass down and touching One’s cheek, fingers trailing into her hair. One’s pulse jumped at the delicate touch, though she merely met Five’s gaze, sinking into amber. The fondness in her eyes was only matched by the warmth of her skin against One’s. “I’ve read your more recent recommendations.  _Eumenides_  seems a bit overt, don’t you think?”

So she’d read the play One had sent her. “You think there was some meaning behind it?”

“I think that even when family was involved, when tradition called for blood, Pallas Athena showed great mercy. A tied verdict resulting in acquittal? The meaning is clear to see, I think.” Her hand trailed to One’s neck, rubbing kind circles behind her ear.

One leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. The party carried on around them, but her world narrowed to Five, to her touch, to the sound of her voice. One breathed deep of her perfume and knew she had been right to bring her. “Should we repurpose ourselves for Zero, shed our blackened feathers and terrible claws as the furies did?”

“One— _darling_ —you are mistaken.” She leaned in, their foreheads pressed lightly together. “All we need do is show  _mercy_. It’s Zero who will need adopt a new coat.”

“Are we the gods, then?” One opened her eyes briefly, tearing them away from Five to set her glass aside, hand coming to rest on the curve of Five’s back. The heat sunk in even through her leather gloves. “Very haughty, Five. Those who have aspired to godhood have met terrible ends before.”

“Aspired,” Five repeated. “Yet we command armies and loyal subjects. Those mortals beneath us offer supplications to spare them our wrath. What more is a god than a being who rules, their will made law? Wouldn’t you say we are gods then, One? Wouldn’t you say it falls to us first to show mercy?”

One pressed her fingers into the slope of her back, and Five hummed, her breath warm against One’s lips. “You don’t leave much room for doubt.”

“I’m only convincing you of your own judgment,” she said. “As I said, I have the utmost faith in you, One.”

They lingered there, One having no words for the flutter in her chest, the lightness that existed behind her eyes. It bubbled up in her throat, a taste sweeter than the champagne, and she released Five’s arm, her hand sliding past her jaw to twine in the stray locks of gold at the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and breathed deep of Five, yet Five was patient, only for her, only ever for her.

“I will never betray that,” One promised, her voice a low whisper. “Ever.”

“Would you reward me for my trust, here, with so many to see?”

“For you,” she breathed.

Five was saccharine and soft edges, fitted to One no matter how they differed. Her mouth was warm upon One’s, velvet heat that made her heart pound, nails finding skin at the back of her neck, and Five hungrily took everything One would give, never faltering, never hesitating to think. She was desire incarnate, and her body thrummed with want, so much that One,  _even One_ , could barely stand to deny her. She would leave the proof of her affection along her throat, upon her hips; she would mark the flesh of her thighs with the ardor of her heart and mouth, persisting until Five said her name like a prayer.

Perhaps she did fancy herself a god already, her fingers tapping along Five’s spine to join the others at the back of her neck. It was terrible and exultant, the love they shared; it wrapped her senses in a haze, making Five the only reality she accepted, and for Five, she would do anything.

When they parted it was for necessity, the breath between them scarce and fleeting, yet they did not stray, their noses nearly touching. Amber eyes were glazed when One met them, her lips parted.

“You’ve surprised me, One,” Five admitted, licking her lips, the dark red of her lipstick smeared at the edges.

One pressed a final kiss to her lips, ignoring the weight of eyes upon them, and said, “I am doomed to be the scandal of all of Gabriella’s parties.”

“Will I be exiled from the premises as well?” Five asked, lifting her hand to swipe at the smudges of red along One’s lips. The press of her thumb was gentle, lingering at the corner of her mouth, and Five’s eyes never strayed.

“Gabriella seems to like you.” One pulled away, if not reluctantly, and forced herself to scan the room. The area around them had become suspiciously devoid of people. “It would be a shame.”

Five slid in at One’s side again, linking their arms and leaning into her. “Perhaps we’ll have the chance to do this again, in that case.”

“I see no reason to wait for next year’s gathering.” There was no sign of Gabriella in the lounge, which meant she had probably yet to return from whatever matters she had to settle. Her office, most likely. With the night winding down, it was now or never to see her, and One couldn’t deny the sudden urgency to leave. “We need to see her before we go.”

Five hummed a note of approval, and together,  they left the golden fixtures and extravagant decorations behind, the last song of the night trailing after them. A woman in a crisp black suit fixed One with a hard stare before nodding and letting them through to a corridor away from the remaining guests. Compared to the constant ebb of voices and music, the hallway was eerily quiet, shadows wreathing the corners and doorways.

One had expected a line of men at Gabriella’s door, the office set at the end of the hall, gold inlaid in the door. It wasn’t often she worked alone; secretaries had a purpose, she would say, but One supposed this late into her own party—one she had pointedly missed—Gabriella was probably too inebriated to want company. Either that or she’d decided they were all incompetent.

There was a lock on the door which opened to fingerprints only, and One offered her right thumb, tugging her glove off to set her skin upon the reader. There were a select few who could come and go as they pleased in Gabriella’s sanctuary; the trust was a weigh in her chest, a heavy burden which only made her stand straighter.

She glanced at Five from the corner of her eyes, pulling her glove back into place after the scanner gave a chirp of approval, and wondered how she managed to transform her devotion into a flame, something to be stoked rather than carried.

“Gabriella,” One called lightly, pushing open the door.

Light fell in slanted lines around the stretch of their shadows, the office dark. The shapes twisted into hard edges, spires that grew sinister even as One looked upon them. The laptop on the desk of the study glowed softly, left unattended; peculiar, even for Gabriella. She’d left in a hurry. Stepping inside to close the computer, One nearly tripped over the object sprawled across the floor.

“ _Finally_ ,” came a wheezing, choked cry, the edges frayed with pain.

Her brow pinched, even as Five stiffened beside her, and One turned on the sound with a sudden awareness of the tangle of limbs beneath her, the way the carpet squished rather than sighed.  _Blood_ , she thought, reaching for the handgun beneath her coat.

The grip was cool, familiar. Her heart thumped in her chest, thoughts scattered as her every sense was devoted to making sense of what she could not see. Five had come unarmed, but she sharpened all the same, kicking off her heels and slipping her arm behind One, fingers bunched in the fabric of her coat. It wasn't often a threat presented itself so clearly; there was no intrigue, no smiles. Just a voice in the dark, and a body at their heels. One didn't even consider it could be Gabriella.

“There,” Five snapped, expression cut from diamonds in the sharp line of light from the doorway. Her amber eyes gleamed like forge-fresh steel, and she nodded toward an overturned chair and the shape slumped against it.

They moved together, steps practiced, Five's head on the pivot for additional movement. How many times had they done this before? Enough for One's voice to come strong and steady when she demanded, "Identify yourself. _Now_."

A choking cough rattled from the person, the wheeze at the end reminding One instantly of the time Zero had punctured a lung. Injured, possibly fatally. It didn't make them any less of a danger, though, and One had not come as far as she had through luck. She kept equal distance between them and the door, ready to retreat out into the well lit hallway.

" _Girl."_ There was more substance to the voice now, and through the tremor, One felt the hair at the back of her neck raise.

" _Gabriella?_ "

The shadows knit tight between them, but the unnatural jut of a knife stood out, blood like ink oozing from flesh. One pulled away from Five, dropping to her knee before the figure, handgun forgotten on the floor by her thigh. Her heart pumped ice, but her hands did not tremble as she set them upon the silk of a dress, gold as champagne. A ring encrusted hand closed around her wrist weakly, and One felt panic sink like stones in her gut.

Wheezing, Gabriella told her, “Get an ambulance. And burn that fucking thing before they get here.”

One couldn’t help the glance over her shoulder, looking between Five and the body. Five was gone without a word, but One shuffled closer, her hands pressed to the sides of the knife, feeling the blood run warm between her gloved fingers. It soaked into the leather, sure to stain. 

Gabriella hissed, but One ignored her, putting pressure on the wound.

“How long?” she asked, her voice sounding foreign even to herself.

Gabriella took One’s other wrist in hand, squeezing weakly. “An hour. Less? Who… Who knows? I told you not to make me wait.”

Her breaths came quick and labored, but she'd been smart enough not to remove the knife. If she hadn't bled out already, there had to be hope for her. There _had_ to be.

“Five will be back soon,” One promised, touching Gabriella’s cheek and willing her voice not to betray her. She swiped her thumb over her skin, exhaling a shaky breath.

Gabriella only laughed weakly. “More waiting,” she said quietly. "Shit like this makes me want to retire."

“Give me a name.” One felt panic seize her truly then, her own pulse in her ears. "I'll take care of the rest."

As the seconds ticked by, One adjusted to the darkness, finding more of Gabriella's form with each passing moment. She met her eyes, dark pits where there should have with gleaming eyes. Her voice was subdued, her razor wit bleeding out of her through a hole between two ribs, but she lifted a hand to One's cheek, fingers wet with blood, and grimaced.

“Singularity.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add as many references to greek literature as I want and no one can stop me. If you have time, you should really check out the Oresteia triology tho because nngh Clytemnestra and nNGH ATHENA.


End file.
